by David Archer
“Well, you’re doing an awful lot for me, too. You’re giving me a whole new lease on life, you know? I’m sure this hasn’t been the easiest job to cope with, but you’re certainly the right man for it. I’m more than happy to pay what it’s worth, and if that gives your family the security they need, then it’s all been worth it.”
Ron nodded. “Definitely worth it on my end,” he said. “I don’t know if I ever told you, but I was honestly contemplating suicide the day we met. I just didn’t know how to handle everything that was happening to me, just couldn’t cope with it all. When you told me what you wanted me to do, it was like the weight of the world fell off of my shoulders. This job has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me, especially under the circumstances.”
“I’m very glad. Listen, it’s like I told you, and we may have to move quickly. I thought I’d go ahead and bring the suit over, so when I call you can be ready and dressed for the part.” He handed over the suit bag that he had draped over his shoulder as he got out of his car. “It’s Armani, so don’t let it get messed up between now and then.”
Ron took it and pulled the zipper halfway down to look at the suit inside. It was gray and probably one of the finest suits he had ever seen. “No problemo,” he said. “Soon as you call, I’ll get into it and grab a cab your direction.”
“No, no, don’t take a cab to the house. Do you know where the Gator House Restaurant is, at Sunset Point and North Fort Harrison? There’s a boat dock just across from it; meet me there, and I’ll take you over by boat.”
“Gator House, yeah. No problemo, just say when.”
The visitor smiled. “Sounds good, Ron. We’re all paid up for now, right? The most recent payment came through okay?”
Ron nodded enthusiastically. “It sure did, sir, and I’m ready. I’ll grant you this job seemed a little odd at first, but with all you’re doing for my family, and with me coming up to my own deadline, I’m really quite comfortable with it.”
The two men shook hands and the visitor turned to leave. Ron watched him for a moment until he disappeared down the stairs and then closed the door.
The other man got into his car and drove away, heading back to his office. Seeing Ron so seemingly ready to play his part had brightened his day, but he still had work to do. Uncle Sam wanted him to babysit someone on a long trip the next day, but with everything coming together the way it was, he didn’t want to be leaving the country. It wasn’t that big a problem; he had plenty of people he could assign to the task.
Hell, if he hurried he might even have time for a little fun with the secretary.
4
“One of the things Herman can do that most search-bots can’t,” Indie had continued, “is learn as he goes. When he found a couple of stories about Michael Reed that had photos of Michael Watkins attached, he added that name to his parameters. I’ve got a number of small articles that mention the name, but I’m not certain they refer to the same one. There are a couple that are definite, though. Here’s one that talks about Reed selling the restaurant in 1990, and another from the same year saying that he and Katherine are proud of Harold, who won some sort of award at school. Unfortunately there are none mentioning him after that, so I’m expanding the search to the rest of Brazil.”
“It just amazes me that I couldn’t find anything about Reed,” Harry said. “One of the things our government is famous for is keeping track of former agents, and Michael went on some very deep missions. There should have been a file on him more than a mile thick, but there was nothing after he got married. I didn’t even find the report of his death, and that’s just about out of the realm of reasonable possibility. There’s no way it wouldn’t have been recorded and added to his file.”
“What about if he was still working for the government, but under cover?” Sam asked. “Would they have kept that out so he could start a new life under another name?”
Harry looked at Sam for a moment without saying anything, then shook his head. “There should have been at least a mention of his reported death, and possibly even a cross-reference to a new file. No, I get the feeling that Michael had the files laundered. There’s always someone in the Company who can do such things, and will if the price is right. That’s how I kept getting my files altered, so I could stay on active duty.”
The computer chimed. Indie called up the results page and looked at the five links that appeared.
“This first one is a newspaper article from Sao Paulo saying that Reed was just opening another restaurant there. Date is June 16th, 1990. Next, we have an article about the restaurant—it’s called Katherine’s, by the way—and here’s another one saying it was rated the best restaurant for tourists in the city. A few more mention it, always with something about Reed, and there are a couple of photos of him. This restaurant was smaller, but a lot nicer than the one in Rio.”
Harry nodded. “As I said, Michael would be some sort of success at anything he chose to do. And he loved to cook, I might add, so I suppose I should not be surprised that he went into restaurants.”
“The last article I’ve got here is dated in August of 1995. He sold out again, and this one says he and his family are moving to Italy, specifically to Rome.”
“Scratch Brazil,” Sam said. “We need to think about going back to Rome, I guess.”
“Don’t start packing yet,” Indie said. “I’m feeding all this to Herman. I’m gonna tell him to search the whole country, though, cause this guy is slippery. And I’m having him do the facial recognition again, just in case of another name change.”
“Harry,” Sam said, “if we find them, what are you planning to do?”
“Are you asking me if I’m going to kill Michael, Sam, boy? You can relax on that score. First off, I think the fact that Kathy will find out he lied to her all those years ago will be enough punishment, but even without that, I wouldn’t want to put my children through the trauma. It is quite possible they believe he’s their father, and they didn’t do anything wrong.” He ran a hand over his white hair. “As for Kathleen, I really just want to see her and know that she’s alive, if she is. I spent most of the last thirty-one years regretting the fact that I never got to say goodbye, you know? I need some closure, I suppose.”
* * * * *
Herman was running a much larger search, and it took almost twenty minutes before he chimed. Indie took a look and groaned.
“What’s wrong, babe?” Sam asked.
“Nothing,” she said. “I mean, Herman got nothing. There are no accessible files related to Reed and family in Italy at all, and no photos of him or her.”
“So we’re back to square one,” Sam said. “Try running just the photo recognition back in Brazil again. Maybe he changed names and stayed in the country.”
“I’m already on it,” she replied. “I’m running them through Google, so it’ll be a worldwide search. Every image you upload anywhere gets indexed, and Herman can look at one in just a few nanoseconds to see if there’s a match. Still gonna take a few hours, but we’ll see what he finds.” She hit the enter key and turned to Harry. “You do know I have to call our moms, right? They’ll kill us if they find out you were here and I didn’t tell them.”
“Bring them on,” Harry said. “And invite the old soldier, too, if he’s still making the occasional appearance. Maybe he can shed some light on this mystery.”
Sam groaned. “Beauregard,” he said. “That alter ego of my mother-in-law scares the hell outa me at times, but he certainly can make life interesting.”
“And longer,” Indie said. “Don’t forget how many lives he’s saved working with you, including your own!”
“I know,” Sam said, “but I still refuse to believe in him, just on principle! I do not believe in ghosts, and especially ones who claim to have known me in a past life, which is something else I just plain don’t believe in!”
Indie chuckled at him, as she picked up the phone and dialed. “Hey, Mom? What are you and Grace doing t
his morning?” She listened for a moment, and then went on. “Well, Sam and I just thought you’d like to know that we’ve got company. Harry Winslow showed up on our doorstep bright and early, and he’d love to see you both.”
She chatted with her mother for a couple of minutes and then hung up the phone. They’d be right over, she reported, and Harry smiled.
The computer suddenly chimed, and Indie looked surprised. “That was awfully fast,” she said, but she looked at the results page. “Sometimes, if there’s a lot of results coming up, he’ll give them to me in groups. Let’s see what he’s found so far.
Most of the links that came up were from the names being searched, and Indie could dismiss most of them easily. Apparently, there were a number of Michael Reed’s in the world, but none of them seemed to be the one she was looking for. She went through about eighty of them in under three minutes, but the next link was to a photograph.
The picture was of both Michael and Kathleen, but they were both noticeably older. Their hair was graying, and there were lines visible in their faces, but they were still quite recognizable. In the photo, they were sitting in the stern of what appeared to be a large sailboat, and smiling happily.
“Hang on,” Indie said, “I’m sourcing the photo. Oh, this one came off of MySpace back in 2005. The page itself is gone, but let’s try the Way-Back Machine.” She went to archive.org and entered the link that had come up in the metadata of the photo.
A copy of the page appeared on the screen, and they were able to read the caption that had been typed under the photo. “Taking the yacht out on her maiden voyage. Cruising down to St. Kitts for the weekend.”
“That entry was added on May 20th of 2005, but here’s the interesting thing. The page is obviously Kathleen’s, but it’s not under the name of Katherine Reed. She’s going by the name of Kathleen again, Kathleen Reed. I’m seeing a lot of references to Mike, the kind a woman makes to her husband. Hey, here’s a photo of both of them, and the caption says she and Mike are going to buy a new car for their daughter, Beth. That one’s in June. The last entry I can find is on January 22nd of 2007.” She went back to the results page and began scanning the links, then broke into a smile.
“January of 2007, she switched over to Facebook. Here’s the page, and it’s still active.” She turned the computer a bit so that Harry could see it clearly, and he was suddenly looking at a clear photo of Kathleen that had been taken quite recently.
“Oh, dear heavens,” he whispered. “How long ago...”
“That selfie was posted a week ago, Harry,” Indie said softly. “Look at this.” She clicked a link, and the page changed, showing her home location as Clearwater Beach, Florida. A telephone number was displayed, as well. “She’s still alive, Harry, but she seems to still be with Michael. There are pictures of the two of them, and she refers to him as Mike now and then.”
Harry stared at the screen for several seconds, then looked up at Indie with tears in his eyes. “I came here expecting to be starting a months-long search that might never turn up any real results,” he said, “and you found her in a matter of minutes. I don’t how to thank you, Indiana.” He looked back at the screen.
“Harry,” Sam said softly, “What are you going to do?”
The old man looked at him and smiled. “Why, Sam, boy, I’m going to burden you with my lazy presence for a few hours, so that I can come to grips with this incredible turn of events, and then I’m going to go to Florida and see my wife.” He turned back to Indie. “Is there any mention of the children?”
“Well, let’s scan her posts,” Indie replied. “There are a lot of mentions of a daughter named Beth and a son named Harold. Harold Reed and Beth Reed, and Beth is short for Elizabeth, no doubt. Each name is linked to a profile, so…” She clicked on one of the links to Beth, and they were suddenly looking at the profile of a lovely woman in her early thirties, surrounded by four kids who looked as though they ranged from about ten to mid-teens. There were three girls and a boy, and the boy seemed to be the eldest.
“Great jumping Jehoshaphat,” Harry said with his eyes wide, “I’ve got grandchildren! Does it tell their names?”
Indie laughed out loud. “Well, I’m just looking through the things she’s posted,” she said, “but it looks like the boy is Reggie, then there’s Vicki, Susie and Danielle. Last name for all of the kids is Jacobs, and that’s her name, too.” She smiled over at Harry. “Elizabeth grew up into a fine woman, Harry.”
“She sure did,” he said. “Any sign of a husband?”
“Well, I don’t see one mentioned. Wait, here’s a reference to the kids going to spend a week with their father, so it sounds like maybe she’s divorced.”
Harry shrugged, but he was still grinning. “That’s the world we live in today,” he said. “What about Harold?”
Indie popped back to Kathleen’s page and clicked on a link to Harold. His page came up, but there was very little information on it. Most of the photos were of cars and motorcycles, but there were a few that showed a man who looked the way Indie figured Harry must’ve looked when he was younger. Some of the older photos included shots of him in a Navy uniform.
“It looks like he’s living in Largo,” Indie said. “Elizabeth, or Beth, is in Florida, too, in Tampa.”
Harry was nodding his head. “Well, naturally, I can’t wait to see them,” he said, “but I think it should wait until after I’ve spoken with their mother. I’m not sure how well that’s going to go over, you understand.”
Sam nodded his head. “Yeah, that might be intense,” he said. “It’s definitely going to be a shock to her, and probably to Michael. From the look of things, he’s gone to great lengths to cover his tracks, trying to make sure you couldn’t track them down.”
“Did a hell of a job of it, too, didn’t he? All the resources of the Department of Homeland Security, and I couldn’t even find a picture of him after he left the Company. If our government had anything comparable to Herman, we might be a viable player in the field of cyber intelligence. As it is, I think we’re just a big joke.”
Indie motioned for Harry to pull his chair closer to hers, and helped him navigate through the various Facebook pages. Gradually, Harry learned that his daughter had been divorced for the past three years, and that she wrote young adult novels for a living and loved taking her kids to visit her parents now and then. Harold, they found, had spent twelve years in the Navy as an airframe mechanic, serving several tours on aircraft carriers. Since receiving an honorable discharge, he had turned his mechanical aptitude to restoring antique automobiles and motorcycles. He was still single, but there were quite a few posts about his live-in girlfriend, whose name was Janine. The two of them had one child together, a three-year-old boy named Christopher.
They were still perusing the pages when Grace and Kim came in, and both of them hurried to the old man who had so often helped to protect them and their children. Fortunately, Harry enjoyed being hugged.
5
Harry had decided to let the ladies in on his situation, so Indie let them take over the table with Harry and Sam while she got up to make lunch. She was interrupted periodically when Harry asked her to show them one picture or another, but she didn’t mind. There was something in the way Harry was acting that made her feel good. It was like he had been on the verge of giving up on life, but suddenly had a reason to keep living.
Of course, a lot of that would depend on how Kathleen reacted. If they were right in their suspicion that she didn’t know Harry was alive, then she probably wouldn’t have any objection to him making contact with their children. On the other hand, there was always the possibility that she would want to avoid that contact, rather than have the children find out what their stepfather had done. Little Kenzie’s father had died some years before, and she wasn’t sure how she would feel if he suddenly turned up alive today. Kenzie never actually knew him, and Sam was the only daddy she’d ever had, as far she was concerned. Trying to explain the truth now
, even without all of the backstabbing drama of Harry’s situation, could confuse the child to no end.
“Oh, God,” she suddenly heard Grace say, and she turned quickly to see what was going on. Her mother was swaying in her chair, with her eyes closed and her head thrown back. This was a sure sign that Beauregard was about to drop in for a visit.
Kim suddenly stopped swaying and brought her head up, opening her eyes and looking straight at Harry.
“Hello, old buddy,” Kim said in a voice that sounded a lot like Harry’s own. “Good to see you again.”
Harry grinned and nodded hello. “Beauregard,” he said. “It’s been a little while.”
Sam was rolling his eyes, but Harry held up a hand to shush him before he could say anything. “What brings you out, Beauregard?” Harry asked.
“This whole mess of yours. I was listening in, hope you don’t mind, and it suddenly dawned on me that I know a little bit about this. It’s not much, you understand, but it could be important.”
“I’m listening,” Harry said. “Go ahead.”
“Well, it’s good you get to see your wife and little ones again, but you need to understand that not every story has a happy ending. I don’t know how this will all turn out, but it’s not going to be an easy one. I think you’re going to get what you want, but it’s going to be up to Sam to make sure you live long enough to enjoy it.”
Kim turned her face to look at Sam, who was staring at her with his own eyes wide. “Samuel, you’re going to play some poker, but each hand you lose is going to cost a life. I wish I could tell you more, but that’s all I can see.”
“Whose lives are we talking about?” Sam demanded, but Kim’s eyes had slowly fallen closed again. Her head fell forward as if she was dozing off, then snapped upright. She blinked as she looked around, then quickly looked at Grace.